Black Sheep

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Black Sheep Page 4

by Rachel Aukes


  “His name’s Finn. He’s joining the crew,” she answered without looking up from her panel.

  “Oh. Okay.”

  When she reached the thirty-second countdown, she ran her fingers over the controls to detach the mooring cables. She could feel the barely audible oomph and a sense of the Scorpia floating as the Gabriela’s cables detached from the small gunship.

  She added power to the reverse thrusters. The Scorpia backed out from the docking bay. She disliked leaving the bay door open, but without power on the Gabriela, she had no other option. Soon, her sight picture widened from the dock before her to the gray side of the cargo ship’s hull.

  A flash of light caused Throttle to jerk. “Did you see that?”

  “See what?” he asked.

  “I saw someone walking over there. Through one of the Gabriela’s windows.”

  “It’s probably just shadows playing off starlight.”

  She shook her head. “Can’t be. It was the interior window in the docking bay.”

  He frowned as he ran his fingers over his panel. “The ship’s systems are all still down. So it must’ve been a bot.” Then he shrugged. “Or it’s the ghost.”

  Throttle took her hands off the controls and let the Scorpia float. “Whoever the ghost is, they’re going to freeze to death in the dark.”

  He shrugged. “Assuming the ghost is a stowaway and not a real ghost. And if they’re a stowaway, serves them right for sneaking on board our ship. On any other ship I crewed, a stowaway would’ve been blown out an airlock.”

  She grumbled, “Pirate.” She spent a long moment looking for another glint of light through the Gabriela’s windows but saw nothing, though the distance between the two ships was growing larger every second. When the full cargo ship came into sight, she took it in for a moment. It’d been a good ship, bringing them farther than anyone before them. Now, with no lights, it appeared a massive corpse, no different from others she’d seen in ship graveyards.

  Throttle hated thinking about the colonists she was leaving behind on the Gabriela. “We’ll be back,” she promised under her breath before turning the Scorpia away and setting up for jump speed.

  “We have enough juice for four jumps,” Throttle said. “I say we take the first one now to get in some distance since we know there are no other ships in any of the surrounding sectors.”

  “Sounds like a plan. We can use the leftover speed from the jump to give the solar sails a good head start,” Birk said. “I see you’ve already plugged in all the coordinates, so I’ll start the jump clock now.”

  Ten minutes later and after the Scorpia achieved jump speed, Birk and Throttle helped the rest of the crew into their cryopods. Once they were settled, she assisted Birk. He climbed into the cylinder and affixed the various electrodes on his body. When he lay back, she set the hydration bag over his chest, which would allow his body to absorb the liquid nutrients over several weeks.

  “Wake me in a month,” he said after she kissed him.

  She woke him twelve days later.

  Chapter Three

  Birk yawned and stretched as he sat up in his pod. “This is the best I’ve ever felt after sleeping a month in the pod. I’ve barely got a headache.”

  “That’s because you were in there for less than two weeks,” Throttle said.

  He rubbed his eyes. “Why? What happened?”

  “I found another ship.”

  His eyes widened. “I assume you’re not talking about the Gabriela.”

  She shook her head. “It’s three sectors ahead of us. I’ve already changed course to intercept it.”

  He frowned. “Are you sure it’s a ship? I mean, we’re supposed to be the only ones out here.”

  “Sensors show that it’s artificial, but its shape isn’t listed in the database. We’ll be close enough within a day to get a visual.” He struggled to get out of his pod, and she lent him a hand as she continued, “I want all the crew awake and ready in case this ship isn’t a friendly.”

  “Has it changed course?” he asked.

  She handed Birk his shirt. “No. It looks like it’s dead in the black, but sensors show it has power. I’ve tried pinging it but haven’t received any acknowledgment.”

  Birk pulled the shirt over his head. His brows furrowed. “So if it’s got power, it didn’t have a cat fail, yet it’s not going anywhere and it’s not talking to anyone.”

  “My guess is they lost one or more critical systems but not everything. When we get closer, I can run full scans to know what we’re dealing with. It could turn out to be nothing, or it could turn out to be a ship with full tanks of juice, just waiting for us.”

  “Or it’s playing possum to draw us in.” Birk looked her up and down, noticing that she was fully armed. He moved past her and to a drawer. He opened it, pulled out his holsters and sheaths, and strapped them on. He checked each weapon before securing them on his body. He stood tall before her for a brief moment before moving around her and to the hallway. “I’ll wake the others.”

  Within three hours, the entire crew crammed onto the bridge while Throttle updated them.

  “…and that’s what I know so far,” she finished.

  Sylvian spoke first. “I have a couple of nonstandard scans I could run. One looks at the energy echoes, which might tell us how long the ship has been in its current position.”

  Throttle spoke. “See what you can find out. If it looks like these are pirates we’re dealing with, then the faster we change course, the better.”

  Garrett’s brows weaved together. “Pirates this far out?”

  Birk spoke as he vacated his seat so that Sylvian could sit at his panel. “You never know. Just because we thought we were the only colonists this far out from the Trappist system doesn’t mean others haven’t tried.”

  “If the ship’s in working condition, maybe it’s big enough to hold the sleepers,” Aubree said. The hope in her voice rang clear.

  “That’s the best-case scenario,” Throttle said. “But there’s a reason it’s sitting out here all alone in the middle of nowhere. Until we know, we have to assume the worst.”

  “If it’s pirates, I’ll rig a few surprises should they try to steal our ship,” Eddy said, and he left the bridge.

  Throttle looked across the faces of those remaining. “Everyone else, you have time to stretch your muscles. Make good use of it.”

  Sylvian began running her scans, and Birk relieved Throttle at the pilot’s station. She headed back to the kitchen area, where Finn was brewing a cup of tea.

  “I’ll take a cup,” she said as she entered.

  He glanced over his shoulder before grabbing a second cup and filling it with hot water.

  “I had a lot of downtime these past couple of weeks. I read your file,” she began.

  “So then you already know all about me,” he said without looking up.

  “Not really,” she said. “Words on a screen don’t say much about who a person truly is.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “For starters…” She ran a finger across the counter, to find it clean. “Why did you sign up for the colonization trip?”

  “Sylvian was going, and I’d follow her anywhere.” He paused before continuing, “Everyone who signed up for the Gabriela was looking for a fresh start. I was no different in that regard.”

  “Except for Nolin, everyone who signed up was a colonist,” Throttle said.

  “I don’t understand what you’re getting at. I’m from Spate, and that makes me a colonist, which you already know since you’ve read my file.”

  “It also said you fought in the war.”

  “I did.”

  She cocked her head. “What it doesn’t say is that you fought for the other side.”

  His face blanched; then he gave a small smile and tapped the pistol holstered at his hip. “Oh. You think I fought with the enemy because I carry a soldier’s pistol?”

  She shook her head. “No. Anyone could
buy one of those for a few credits at the end of the war.” She leaned back against the counter and scrutinized him. “No wonder you kept to yourself around the other colonists. Someone else would’ve noticed, too.”

  His gaze narrowed. “And what is it you noticed?”

  “That you have the bearing of a citizen, not a colonist.”

  When he watched her and didn’t answer, she continued, “You shouldn’t have listed Spate as your home world. That’s the dirtiest, nastiest colony out there. You would’ve done better to have put Sylvian’s home world of Darios on your fake credentials. They’re far more civilized.”

  He lifted the tea leaves from the cup and gently stirred for several long moments before he responded, “I didn’t have enough credits to buy a customized profile. Sylvian was only able to change the first name in the amount of time we had. My name is truly Finn, but the rest belongs to some poor bloke who died in the war.”

  “Did you kill that poor bloke?”

  He handed her the cup of tea. “No.”

  She took a sip. It was hot but good. She didn’t speak, instead letting silence drift between them.

  He blew steam from his cup.

  Several sips passed before he spoke again, slowly at first. “My real name is Finn Martin, I was born on Alluvia, and it’s true, I fought on the wrong side in the war. I was stationed on Spate, at Devil Town.” He took a deep breath. “I abandoned my post when I saw what was happening to the people there. I helped evacuate every colonist I could. That was how I met Sylvian—she was working on one of the refugee ships at the time. We became close, and when she told me about a colony ship being prepped to launch and that she was going to join its crew, we spent every last credit to each of our names to get me on the roster.”

  Throttle still said nothing.

  After another moment of silence, Finn continued, “That you didn’t leave me behind or throw me out the airlock hopefully means you’re willing to give me a chance. I want you to know that I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you know you didn’t make the wrong decision.”

  “I assume Sylvian knows your history,” Throttle said eventually.

  “She knows everything about me,” he answered without a hitch.

  “As your captain, I expect the same.” She pushed off from the counter. “Because if you ever lie to me in the future, I will shove your ass out of that airlock. You won’t get a second chance like I gave Sylvian.”

  “I give you my word, Captain, I won’t let you down.”

  “Then we’re good here.” She moved to leave, then paused and turned back to face Finn. “What were your primary responsibilities as a soldier?”

  “Reconnaissance and direct action.” He winced slightly before adding, “I was a member of Echo Unit.”

  Echo Unit was one of the first-strike teams, showing up at nearly all the colonies early in the war. She was impressed that he’d told her. Most wouldn’t. Being from Echo Unit meant Finn had killed many innocents, but what mattered more to her was that it meant he’d had combat training. She reminded herself that the latter could be a benefit to her should they run into trouble, though it didn’t make up for the former. “I recommend you don’t tell the rest of the crew which unit you were with. At least not until they’ve gotten the chance to get to know you.”

  He gave a single nod.

  She left him and returned to the bridge to find Birk and Sylvian both focused on the panels before them. “Learn anything new?”

  Sylvian looked up. “The energy scan takes a while, but the debris scan is finishing now.”

  “I’m just rerunning the standard scans. Seeing if the results change as we get closer,” Birk said.

  “Anything change?” Throttle asked.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Throttle leaned against the wall and drank her tea while she waited for Sylvian to read the results from the scan. The worst part about flying through space was the waiting. Boredom could become a very real and very deadly disease.

  “No signs of debris.” Sylvian turned around. “That means the hull is likely intact. Or it could mean that any debris has long since floated off.”

  “Keep me posted,” Throttle said and turned to leave.

  “Hold on. The energy scan’s just completed,” Sylvian said.

  “And what’s it say?” Birk asked.

  “I’m still reading it,” Sylvian said.

  Throttle headed to where the software tech sat and looked over her shoulder. On the screen, the unknown ship was a dot in the center of what looked like a topographical map. Lines with numbers encircled the dot.

  “If I’m reading this right,” Sylvian began, “this ship has been sitting there for some time.”

  “So you don’t think it’s playing possum?” Throttle asked.

  “Not unless they’ve been waiting for years. More like decades. Maybe even longer,” she replied.

  Hope dwindled. “If it’s been sitting out there that long, then it’s likely not going to be any use to us.”

  “At least we won’t have to deal with pirates,” Birk said.

  Throttle shot him a wry look. “You don’t think I know you were hoping to deal with pirates?”

  He gave her his crooked grin. “It’s been a while since I had a good fight.”

  “I wonder what happened,” Sylvian said. “Even with cat fails, ships continue to drift on their flight path forever. This ship isn’t moving. That means it was intentionally stopped out here, in the middle of nowhere, for a reason.”

  “It could’ve been on a mapping mission. Trappist is a big system. Who knows, some corporation could’ve been working on stuff we didn’t hear about,” Birk said.

  “You’re assuming it’s one of our ships,” Throttle said.

  “What else could it be?” He chuckled. “Aliens?”

  “Maybe there were more colony ships that made it out of the Sol system before Earth’s Last War,” Sylvian said.

  “Then we would’ve heard about them. Everyone knows that every colony ship launched from Sol went to Trappist,” Birk said.

  “We’ll know when we get up close,” Throttle said. “Wake me when something changes.” She went to her bunk and plopped down on the bed. She didn’t bother removing her leg braces, and her world faded within seconds.

  She jolted awake and checked her wrist-comm for the time. Four hours. She’d been asleep for over four hours. Frowning, she pushed to her feet, holding onto the bed until her legs steadied. As soon as she could stand on her own, she squeezed past the cryopods, out of her cabin, down the hall, and to the bridge.

  “It’s definitely not one of ours,” Sylvian said.

  “I’m not convinced of that yet, but I do know that she’s one slinky lady,” Birk said.

  Throttle stopped and stared at the viewscreen that filled the forward wall of the ship hull like a large window. The image displayed was grainy from the distance between the two ships, but she could make out the smooth, gray shape of a ship shaped like a slightly flattened bullet. Two large engines curved outward from its stern.

  She placed a hand on Birk’s shoulder.

  He jumped and turned to see her. “You’re awake.”

  “You should’ve woken me earlier,” she said.

  “I checked on you,” he said. “You were snoring, so I figured you needed the rest.”

  Throttle chortled. “I don’t snore.”

  “You snore like an old frigate firing up its engines,” Birk countered.

  “Frigates are loud,” Sylvian added.

  “You’ve never told me I snored.” Throttle shook her head. “I don’t snore. Now tell me what you’ve found out.”

  Birk pointed to the ship slowly coming into sharper resolution on the viewscreen. “She looks armored, but she’s too small to be a destroyer and doesn’t look to have any cannons. She’s too streamlined to be a cargo hauler or a passenger ship. And she’s sleeker and bigger than most yachts I’ve ever seen.”

  “It’s about ei
ght times the size of the Scorpia,” Sylvian said. “It could be a high-end yacht, but I don’t know why it’d be out here so far from home.”

  “Maybe we’ve just come across an eccentric citizen with an itch to explore the galaxy and who had more credits than any of us could imagine,” Throttle offered.

  “I could imagine a lot,” Birk said.

  “I know you could,” Throttle said before turning back to Sylvian. “Anything new on the scans?”

  Sylvian shook her head but didn’t look up from her panel. “Nothing new, but we’re close enough that new scans have confirmed that this ship has been sitting there for a very long time, long enough for any energy signature from its engine to have long since dissipated. My guess is that it’s been sitting there for a couple of hundred years, at least. It also hasn’t responded to any of our pings, so it’s safe to say there’s no one on board.”

  Throttle’s eye twitched. There’d be no one on board alive. She’d been on dead ships before. The sealed systems slowed down decomposition. Corpses that should’ve rotted away in years took centuries, and their oily stench clung to every surface for far longer. She took a breath of fresh air. “Are the life-support systems operational?”

  “Our scanner can’t penetrate the ship. There are no signs that the hull is compromised, but the ship has been out here for so long that its environmental controls could’ve long since collapsed,” Sylvian said.

  “It may be dead, but it could have supplies for us,” Birk said.

  “Or its system logs might tell us where we might find help,” Sylvian said.

  Throttle nodded. “It’s worth checking out, even if just for answers as to why another ship is this far away from the Trappist system.” She motioned to Birk. “Give me an hour. I’ll put us alongside it. You’d better prep the crew. Everyone knows the drill: suit up and be ready for anything.”

  He vacated the pilot’s chair, which Throttle claimed.

  “You want all of us to go on board to check her out?” he asked.

  “No. Without scans, we don’t know what we’ll find in there. There could be a bioagent that wiped out the crew.”

 

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